The Hoss Cartwright Essays: My Hero
by TracyLeeT
Summary: Hoss reveals what being a hero means to him.


**The Hoss Cartwright Essays: My Hero**

"Hoss," the teacher said sternly, "you may not join your schoolmates at recess until you explain why it is that on my desk, I have essays from everyone in your grade except you."

The eleven year old's shoulders collapsed. Standing motionless in the doorway, his eyes lingered on the children in the schoolyard. He screwed up his face, his cheeks stretching to and fro as his lips mashed together.

"Hoss," his teacher prodded.

With a silent sigh, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and turned slowly to face Miss Jones. "Yes'im?" he asked, his eyes darting, refusing her intense gaze.

"Your assignment was to compose an essay about someone you admire," Miss Jones said. "Now, Hoss, where is your essay?"

Hoss shuffled to his desk and, grudgingly, slipped one hand from one pocket. Grabbing the corner of his essay, he yanked it free from beneath his slate. He scuffed his heal against the wooden floor and reluctantly made his way to Miss Jones' desk. This time, Hoss's sigh drew his chin to his chest, and blindly, he skated the paper across the teacher's desk.

"Don't you have something to say, Hoss?" Miss Jones asked.

Hoss wrinkled his nose as he stared at his feet. "I'm sorry I didn't hand my essay in with the rest of 'em. Kin I go, now?"

Miss Jones shrunk back in her chair. _I've never known Hoss to act this way. Something must be troubling the boy. _"Yes, Hoss," she replied, "you _may_ go outside with the others."

"Thank you, Miss Jones," Hoss mumbled before turning on his heels and hurrying into the schoolyard.

It wasn't until that evening, as she sipped chamomile tea in the comfort of her overstuffed chair, that Miss Jones began grading her students' essays – beginning with one by Hoss Cartwright . . .

My Hero by Hoss Cartwright

I reckon this essay is sposed to be about one person, but I got more than one hero. So I'm going to write about all my heroes and I hope that's all right.

My first hero is my pa. He's my hero because he always takes care of things like the cattle and the horses and he can build jist about anythin' and he respects the land and such. He teaches me and my brothers to feed the stock and keep 'em safe. He teaches us to be careful when we use things like hammers and saws. He makes sure that if we cut a tree, we plant another one. He ain't always real popular with some men in Virginia City. That's because he looks at both sides of things before he gives his opinions. Sometimes, Pa's opinions ain't everyone else's. My Pa always reminds me that the law has to be followed, and he says that even though Sheriff Coffee is stubborn, we have to listen to what he says. My Pa takes real good care of me and my brothers. I reckon we should try to make it easier to do that, but sometimes we get ornery. Least that's what Pa says.

My next hero is my brother Adam. He's going to college soon but I reckon he's already real smart. Adam teaches me a lot. Some of it is the same as what my pa teaches me, but I ain't gonna let on because it means a lot to Adam. He's my best friend. Sometimes, him and Little Joe are my only friends. I think it is because I'm so big and I ain't real interested in getting smart. But Adam makes me feel littler and when he asks me questions about birds and land critters, it makes me feel smart. He says I got a big heart and I reckon he's right, because when he talks about going away to college, my chest hurts real bad. I reckon it is my heart crying.

My next hero is my brother Little Joe. He's real little but he makes us all smile. He's too little to teach me things so I teach him. Sometimes he follows me around and I don't like it but then when he's taking a nap I miss him. He's my hero because his ma died just like Adam's and mine. Only Little Joe can remember his ma and it used to make him sad all the time. But he's my hero now because he is not so sad anymore. Just sometimes.

My last hero is my mama Marie. She died. I miss her a lot. She is my hero because she made Pa very happy and she had to wait a long time before Adam let her do things for him. When he did it made her very happy. She even cried, but nobody's sposed to know that. Mama is my hero because even though me and Adam wasn't her babies, she loved us just like she loved Little Joe. My and Adam are a handful. That's what Pa says. So Mama had her work cut out for her. Pa said that too.

That's my essay about my heroes. I know we're sposed to let our parents read our essays, and they're sposed to write something at the end, but I ain't gonna give it to Pa. I know Miss Jones will be angry. I don't write real good like Adam does. And Pa has been real sad this week. See, it has been two years since Mama died and we always go to visit her on the anniversary. I'd like to save my essay and leave it on her special place. Then whenever she misses us she can read it.

Miss Jones blinked, freeing the tears that had welled in her eyes. She pictured the stocky eleven-year-old with the amazing, blue eyes, expressive face, and kind, gentle heart. She opened her grade book, followed her finger to Hoss's name, and wrote a single letter next to the assignment. "A"


End file.
